


Fuck You Barry Allen

by liquidheartbeats



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 21:15:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9922391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquidheartbeats/pseuds/liquidheartbeats





	

Iris West couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the sight of the tall man in the red suit, who’d been taking photos with the customers of Jitter for the past half-hour. 

On his arm was a beautiful blonde woman, probably mid-20s, completely enamored by whatever dirty things he was whispering in her ears, as the photog snapped away. 

_‘I’d get my ear tested if I were you blondie."_

She’d come to Jitters to work on her article, expecting to get some quiet time away from her noisy office life, just to be bombarded with Flash paraphernalia and the man who’d inspired it. 

Flash Day. What a go*damn stupid concept. A hero was supposed to be noble, humble even. Not an attention seeking asshole who’d held a press conference to announce his identity to the world. 

Since that day, nearly a year ago, the press had been chronicling his daily activities, following him along on his rescue missions, among other things. He'd grown more arrogant by the day, gallivanting around like his powers made him better than others. 

He always took the longest, most complicated routes to apprehend his criminals. He threw lightning bolts when the situation didn’t call for it and left trails of fire everywhere he went, with no regard to the people who would have to extinguish them. 

The sound of Iris’ chirping phone alarm tore her away from the scene in front of her and prompted her to resume work on her article. 

She’d never been good with deadlines, and if she could be honest, was easily distracted. She’d set her alarm to fire off, periodically, to remind her to re-focus, if she needed to. She couldn’t afford to get another late strike, otherwise, she’d be fired from Picture News.

_“If you want to turn things in at your own pace, start another damn blog. Otherwise, the deadlines I give you are not optional.”_

She could hear the condescension in Mr. Bordine’s voice. Even though he’d sought her out because of her blog on Central City’s most arrogant hero, he harbored an unhealthy amount of contempt for blogging, just like social media and the internet in general. _Damn technology for making the spread of information, of all thinking more accessible._

That was just like the older generation to have their knickers in a bunch because the younger folks had found ways into arenas they could never have dreamt of. 

Sure, she was sometimes a day or two late with assignments, but that’s because writing was more than typing away at a keyboard. It was an artform. One that took time to master, sometimes more than was allotted, and one that Mr. Bordine just didn’t understand anymore. 

Iris had admired his work as a young, budding writer, hungry just to get his words out there. Bordine, as an editor--not so much. Now, he only cared about his bottom line, how many papers sold; how sensational a headline could be--how much the paper could charge for advertisements. 

She scoffed at her industry’s prioritization of click bait over real news; at the fact that a man could gain fame just for being fast.

Sure, he helped a lot of people, but he did it for the glory, for the accolades, for the perks. Even through the tapping of her keyboard, Iris could hear Flash gumming it up with the crowd of people that surrounded him, dramatizing his recent rescue of the kids from the pediatric ward of the hospital, to anyone that would listen.

“Yes, yes. I mean, it was not easy. The flames blazed, smoke billowed through the floor, no end in sight,” he used both of his hands to mimic goggles, “but I had to do it--for the children. Because...as you know...they really are the future.” 

Apparently, they’d moved on to the interview portion of Flash day. Various media members from papers, magazines had gathered in Jitters and were eating up every single word that Flash spit out. 

When he was done recounting his heroic tale, applause rippled throughout the room. As if on cue, Barry smiled and bowed before the cameras. 

It was such a stark contrast to the Flash Day from the year before; before he announced his identity to the world. That man, an anonymous guardian for the city, bashful, hesitant to even receive such and honor, was the epitome of class and grace. 

 

**“Tell me, how many heroes do know you know that have gravitated towards the spotlight the way that The Flash has? How many have revealed their identity to the world via press conference?**

**We live in a world where it’s become acceptable to exploit our personal lives for financial gain, but shouldn’t heroes be held to a higher standard? Not to mention, it would seem that The Flash, in spite of all of his degrees, doesn’t understand that by making his identity public knowledge, he’s put not only his life but everyone he holds dear to his heart in danger. This danger is only exacerbated by the fact that he constantly tips off the press of his whereabouts, at all hours of the day.**

**Yes, I’m aware that he’s done some heroic things, saved a lot of lives--and I would never try to negate those deeds--but I must pose the question: for whose benefit has his service truly been for? Ours? Or his?**

Iris typed up the final paragraph of her op-ed column for Picture News. “Flash: Hero or Reality TV Reject?” then emailed her her draft to Mr. Bodine. “How’s that for sensational?” 

Any edits her boss would suggest wouldn’t come for at least a few hours. That meant that she basically had the rest of Friday off. After a few more sips of her coffee, she packed up her laptop and left a tip on the table for the waitress, just as Flash was wrapping up his interviews. 

Thankful that she didn’t have to endure any more of Flash’s humblebrags, Iris headed for the door. On her way out, a large frame bumped into her from behind, sending her binder full of notes to the ground.

“Oh excuse me, ma’am. I wasn’t paying attention,” the voice behind her called out. 

“That’s really oka-….” When she turned, her eyes made contact with the clumsy stranger; it was none other than Barry Allen, who’d dropped down to pick up her spilled notes. 

She immediately blocked him with her foot. “I got it, got it,” she said, obviously annoyed.

“Oh-okay, sorry.”

“Aren’t speedsters supposed to have super sight or hearing or whatever. How the hell did you not see me?”

Slightly taken aback, the superhero offered his explanation to the beautiful woman. “Well, even speedsters get distracted.” He offered his hand, only to be met with an icy gaze. 

“What did you see your reflection in the window or something?”

The man flashed her a cocky grin, that put all of his perfectly aligned teeth on display. “Well, you know I do look good in red.”  
He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, and waived his hands down his body in a comical fashion. 

Iris choked back her desire to expel the contents of her lunch, all over the sidewalk. “You’d look good with a little humility. Do me a favor and watch where you’re going.” Before he could respond, Iris pushed past the scarlet speedster and headed down the block to her apartment.  
‘  
“Wait-wait, ma’am-” 

“What?” Iris shot him a look of contempt, as she whipped around. Can’t you take a hint?

“We’ve obviously gotten off on the wrong foot, m’lady” He extended his hand once more. Let’s start over? It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m The Flash--Barry Allen, whichever you’d prefer.”

Iris reluctantly shook his hand, pulling it back when he tried to bring it to his mouth for a kiss as if his lips were peppered with cold sores. “Iris,” she said matter-of-factly. “You think I don’t know who you are?” she added. 

“I know, I know it’s an honor, right?” He displayed a cheeky grin, then bowed before her. “Well, I can assure your mademoiselle, the pleasure is all mine.”

She narrowed her eyes in disbelief. She’d met a lot of douchebags in her day, but none of them had been this tone deaf. Was he screwing with her? Was she being Punk’d? “More like--It was the biggest media circus that town’s ever seen. Couldn’t have missed it if I wanted.” 

His press conference had been aired on every single local news channel. In the days after, he’d appeared on the cover of every major magazine, wearing designer clothes, couture re-imaginings of his Flash costume. 

“Well, you know, what can I say? The press loves me.”

 

“Not nearly as much as you love yourself, though right?”  
He started to speak, then hesitated as a dumbfounded expression spread across his face. 

At the same time, Iris’s phone started to ring. “Yeah, Wally? Again? Okay, I’m on the way.” When she hung up, she turned to Flash, who was still standing there, for whatever reason. 

“As much as I enjoyed this little meeting,” she started, her voice ripe with sarcasm, “I gotta get home.”

She waited a moment for his response, but to her surprise, he didn’t follow her or waste any more of her time. He just nodded at her and sped away. 

If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought that her comment had gotten to him, but it wasn’t likely that anything could penetrate his thick skull It’s much more likely that he’d grown bored of her, once he realized she wasn’t going to fawn all over him. Definitely, no love lost.  
_______________

After a ten minute walk, Iris arrived at her apartment building. When she made her way to her apartment, Iris gave the lanky man sitting next to her door an apathetic smile. 

“Wally, how’d you forget your key again? This is the second time this week.” 

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, I left early to go meet a friend and I forgot...I guess.” 

Iris pushed her key into the lock, and allowed her brother to waltz in, before locking them both inside. “Would that friend happen to wear little dresses?” She asked, knowingly.

“Iris. I’m 17. I can meet girls for breakfast before school. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, you just better not bring any of them back here.” Her accompanying glare was one Wally had seen many, many times. He knew not to push back too much. Not if he didn’t want to be treated to a lecture for hours to come. “Speaking of food, I’m starving,” Iris said to change the subject, once positive that Wally understood that her two-bedroom apartment couldn’t accommodate a third.

“Same. Lunch was trash.”

“Sandwiches?” Iris asked as she rummaged through her fridge. “I just bought some more of those hoagie rolls you like and,” she pulled out two family sized bag of chips, “the grocery store had a sale on these.

“You always know how to find the best deals, sis.” Her brother snatched the bag of sour cream and onion chips and ripped them open, causing a few chips to hit the floor.

“Yeah, well when I have a little brother who eats like a cow, I guess I’d better be a little frugal.”

Iris turned back to the fridge and laid out deli meat, cheese, and various vegetables. “Hand me a couple of plates will you? Paper--unless you’re doing the dishes.” 

“Sure.” As Wally retrieved the paper plates from the cabinet, Iris turned on the little TV that sat on their kitchen counter” 

The sight of The Flash, riding on a float at the Flash Day parade, nearly made her lose her appetite. “Ugh,“ She immediately started to change the channel.

“Wait-I wanna see this!” 

Newscasters:

**Jenny Khan: “As you can see, this year’s Flash Day Parade has a marvelous turnout, compared to last years.”**

**Michael Moore: “Well Jenny, I guess that’s what happens when the honoree actually turns up.**

**JK: He turned up last year, but he left before the parade.**

**MM: He also moped around like he didn’t have a friend in the world. It was actually a little depressing to watch. Definitely didn’t make for good TV.**

**JK: Right. Well, The Flash definitely has a little more pep in his step this year. He’s living life to the fullest. And loving every minute of it.**

On the screen was The Flash smiling, and waving to the people who lined the streets, pushing and pulling against each other to get a peek of the scarlet speedster. 

A motorcade of police motorcycles surrounded him, and though Iris couldn’t see them on camera, she knew that at least ten snipers were nearby just in case any metas or disparaged criminals decided to go at Flash while his guard was down. 

Not to mention that ever-so-rare non-evil metas’ the city had employed to be his personal security guards. They were littered through the crowd, dressed to blend in with the screaming, citizens, but were ready to run interference on anyone who might try to get at The Flash. 

Iris sighed, as she watched her little brother watch the mayhem on the screen. He was just as enthralled by The Flash as the rest of Central City. Maybe a little more and that worried her to no end. He was still really young, and a man that waltzed around like he was God’s gift to the world, was not the kind of influence he needed. 

“Willy there's gotta be something better on to watch.”

“Iris, I know he’s a little cocky, but he’s not a bad guy, Iris. He’s a hero,” Wally mumbled, a mouth full of chips. “You don’t gotta hate on him the way you do.”

“Oh please, he is NOT a hero. He’s a glorified public servant, who wouldn’t know the beauty of silent charity if bit him in the ass. Not to mention, he’s a male whore. He has a new woman on his arm every single week. ”

“You’re mad that he enjoys himself? If you gotta kick some ass for a living, you may as well have a little fun on the side.” Wally chuckled to himself, briefly he caught Iris’ glare. “Or not?”

 

Iris sighed. “ Wally he is not a good example. The city even pays the bastard for God’s sake! He gets 2 million a year to protect the city, Wally. 2 million dollars! He does the SAME thing the policemen do, for far more pay, and more benefits. As far I’m concerned that makes him an employee; heroes don’t get rewarded.”

Wally rolled his eyes and grabbed his sandwich from the counter. “And he did it how long before that? For free? But really. So what if he gets paid. He works hard to keep us all safe. He deserves it. Besides, food ain’t free.”

“You know what? ” Iris rambled in her drawer for that weeks’ grocery receipts. Her eyes trailed down the long piece of paper until she reached the bottom. “I’m sooooo glad that you think so. Cause your share of this week’s grocery bill comes down to 62 dollars, 52 cents.” 

Wally, who’d headed for the living room, settled onto the couch with his food. “What I MEANT to say was, he probably don’t got a big sister that loves him like I do.” Wally looked back at Iris, who stood with her arms folded and fluttered his eyelashes, animatedly. 

Iris tried to feign annoyance, but couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across her face, as she walked over to the couch with her own plate. “And don’t you forget it.” She nudged him in the chest, almost causing him to drop his sandwich. 

“Iris!”

“But seriously, I need you to get a job if we’re going to make it. Picture News pays well and I got us on the homefront, but we gotta put forth a team effort if you’re going to go to make it to college next year.”

“Right. Right. Gotta get ready for those college women.”

Iris hit him in the shoulder, this time with more force. “And-and the valuable education and life experience I’m gonna receive as well,” he added before she circled around for another lick.

“Have you been looking?” Iris asked as she bit into her own sandwich. “And don’t lie to me.”

“Yep, I have an interview next week. At that new pizza joint.”

“Alright! Cause I’m not going to be the only West with a college degree. Besides, you’re too smart to let that giant brain go to waste.” She nuzzled his head with her semi-clean hand.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” 

“Yeah yeah, nothing. You’re ridiculously smart, Wally. You just don’t push yourself hard enough. Lucky for you, I’mma stay on your butt. All day, every day.”

Wally sighed. He knew this was true.


End file.
